Saving Morgan
by Angoliel
Summary: The battle for Morgan at the end of the movie, through Bo's eyes. What was she really thinking? Please read and review! SPOILER ALERT: for those who haven't seen the movie, do so before reading this fic. You'll understand it better.


**Summary**: The final battle against the lone alien, from Bo's point of view.

**Author's Notes:** I know I haven't updated in a while, but I'm really busy with school. In fact, I should be writing four pages of a research paper right now, but I've got a bunch of one-shots in me that need to get out. And since I haven't touched the _Signs_ fandom, I thought I'd spit this one out first.

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We had spent all night in the cellar. I had fallen asleep on Uncle Merrill's lap not long after Daddy helped Morgan through his asthma attack. It was a little scary sitting in the dark, when there were aliens that were trying to get in. But Uncle Merrill hugged me tightly and told me to close my eyes and think about what Daddy used to preach - about God taking care of us. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat instead. It was beating very fast, and I knew he was scared too. It soon slowed, and I fell asleep to its steady rhythm. 

When I woke up, I was on the floor. Uncle Merrill and Daddy were listening to the radio. The man on the radio said the aliens had gone. Had we really won? I didn't feel like we had won anything. Daddy pulled my old baby monitor out of Morgan's pocket. If we didn't get upstairs soon, Morgan would be very sick, he said.

I had told Morgan two days ago that I had a bad feeling, that I didn't want him to die. The aliens had almost taken him away from us last night, but Daddy and Uncle Merrill saved him. He had gone through one of his attacks, and he was still with us. The aliens were gone, or so the man on the radio said. But that didn't make the bad feeling I had go away. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at Morgan. If the aliens were still here, and we went upstairs, would Morgan die?

The baby monitor buzzed, but we didn't hear those noises the aliens made. Daddy said it was good enough for him, so he had Uncle Merrill go upstairs and check. After a few, quiet minutes later, I saw him at the top of the stairs again, nodding for us to come. Daddy went first, carrying Morgan as if it were me in his arms. I walked behind Daddy, watching my brother. Morgan didn't lift his head, but he blinked at me, giving me a weak smile. I knew he was trying to tell me he was okay, but I didn't believe him.

When we got upstairs, I went straight to the closet under the stairs to see the T.V. There were dark-skinned people, smiling and clapping and dancing. The white-haired reporter was saying they had somehow found a way to beat the aliens. Lucky them...we hid in our cellar. But I smiled at their dance - it looked funny. Daddy would want to know.

"They're doing this on T.V.," I said, trying to imitate the silly dance. Daddy turned from Morgan, who was laying on the couch in the living room, and smiled.

"They're dancing," he said. Through his cracked voice, I could hear he was tired. But he was smiling, which meant he thought we would be all right. I wanted to make him smile more.

"Yeah, like this," I replied, dancing again. Morgan smiled too. Daddy looked at my brother again.

"You wanna see it?"

Morgan nodded, blinking slowly. "I'll bring it in here," Daddy whispered, ruffling his hair. Then he got up and went to the closet to turn off the TV and move it back to its place.

As soon as he left the room, I saw it. I don't think it noticed me, because it went straight for Morgan. I wanted to scream for Daddy, or even for Uncle Merrill, but I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't move, even though I wanted to rush at it, kick it, make it leave my brother alone. It didn't make a sound as it picked up Morgan with just one hand. Uncle Merrill was in the kitchen. Would he see it? _Could_ he?

Daddy came back and pushed the T.V. back. Then he stopped. I knew he had seen it, as he stood up slowly, turning around. Soon after, Uncle Merrill came into the living room, carrying Morgan's medicine and a needle. They fell from his hand, as his eyes grew wide in fear. The alien started clicking and chirping at us. It was telling us something, and it reminded me of Dexter delivering terms for a hostage on my favorite cartoon. Only this wasn't silly. This wasn't Dexter demanding things that didn't matter. This was a thing that wanted something from us, if we wanted to keep Morgan.

Uncle Merrill took a step forward, but Daddy whispered for him to wait. Wait for what? It had Morgan! We had to do something. I looked at Daddy. Was he crazy? Mommy would have leapt at the thing and clawed at it. She would have punched the alien's lights out, no matter how much it hurt her. She'd fight for Morgan. Daddy got a faraway look in his eyes, the same look he got when he talked to Mommy when he thought I wasn't listening. For a few seconds he just stood there. Daddy, do something!

Then he came back, and the look on his face changed into something I had never seen before, not even in the cellar when he told somebody, "I hate you." It was a look I wanted him to have all along. It said, "You're not leaving with my son."

"Swing away, Merrill," Daddy whispered. What? Uncle Merrill looked at Daddy, just as puzzled as I was. "Merrill. _Swing away!"_

Then Uncle Merrill understood. He slowly turned to the bat we mounted on the wall just for him. The home-run bat. Reaching up for it, he took it down, tightening his hold on it. What once was a piece of sporting equipment turned into a dangerous weapon. My uncle isn't a small man - he threatened to beat up a man at the church Daddy used to preach at once, when the man said something mean about Daddy and Mommy. I could see the muscles in Uncle Merrill's arms flex underneath his shirt. He was building up to swing as hard as he could, just like he was getting ready to hit that home run again.

But the alien was quick, too. Out of its arm, came what looked like a small pipe, and it sprayed something on Morgan. This couldn't be happening! Morgan said he wouldn't die! I dreamed this, and now it was happening! My bad feeling was coming true. I tried to scream Morgan's name. I ended up just screaming just as the alien turned to look at me. Uncle Merrill hit it in the upper arm, making it drop Morgan. Daddy rushed to him and picked him up, then went to pick up his medicine and needle. Uncle Merrill hit the alien again, and it stumbled backward and fell against a dresser. It knocked over a glass I had left there two days ago – it had tasted old.

My eyes grew wide as it flinched away. The water looked like it had burned the alien, like acid on its green skin. Uncle Merrill's mouth twitched into a smile as he looked around the room. I had left glasses of water everywhere. Daddy looked at me, and I at him – we both knew.

He had always said that there was something wrong with me, that I just left unfinished cups and glasses of water everywhere. But I couldn't help it. It just always tasted wrong in my mouth, and I could never finish it.

Daddy used to preach that there was a purpose to even the little things that we did – like when Morgan accidentally ran into a boy at school one day. They were both hurt themselves, but they later became best friends. As I looked into Daddy's eyes for just that split second, I felt like he was saying, "There _is_ a purpose to your irritating little habit. I love you, Bo."

Daddy and I ran outside. I raced to a window while Daddy went further into the backyard and fell on his knees, holding Morgan and giving him his shot. I wanted to see the alien die – asit surely would. Uncle Merrill looked terribly angry, and he was circling the coffee table where a few glasses stood. The alien had its back to me, on the other side of the coffee table. It looked as though it was trying to think up a plan to hurt Uncle Merrill while staying away at the same time. Uncle Merrill wasn't giving it any chances as he swung down to break one of the water glasses. Water flew up into the alien's eyes, and it hissed angrily.

"_What would it be like to see an alien die? Can it really die?"_ I wondered to myself. Uncle Merrill backed it up closer to another dresser, bringing the end of the bat so close to its face that if it moved another two inches it would have knocked its slim mouth against the wood. Uncle Merrill looked as though he wanted to break the alien in half.

"Yaah!" Uncle Merrill screamed, pulling the bat back and swinging down as hard as he could. He knocked the alien in the chest, and it stumbled backward into the dresser. Three glasses spilled, right onto the alien's face. The home-run bat was broken, splintered into several pieces. But Uncle Merrill didn't care – he just stepped over the wheezing alien's body to come outside. He saw me at the window and nodded grimly, without smiling. He didn't have to smile. I knew he was still angry.

We both went to Daddy, who was rocking Morgan in his arms. "His lungs were closed, his lungs were closed. No poison got in. No poison got in!" he was saying over and over.

Poison? That stuff the alien sprayed was poison? I felt myself tear up. I didn't want to lose my brother. Uncle Merrill reached for Morgan's neck to check for a pulse.

"Don't touch him, give him a minute," Daddy said quickly. I could tell he was about to cry, just like he cried when Mommy died. Would Mommy see Morgan in heaven?

"Daddy," I tried to ask him my worry.

"_Don't touch him!"_ he snapped at me. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. Uncle Merrill was pacing behind me.

"Graham," he said, his voice shaky.

Then, Morgan opened his eyes. "Daddy," he whispered. "Did someone save me?"

And I knew it was going to be all right.

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